Anne Frasier's Blog, page 6

MADE OF STARS — CHAPTER THREE

Chapter 3LilaThe pale boy is back.Not only back, but he's just passed out on the floor of the coffee shop.I didn't think he could get any paler, but apparently he can. His brows are bold and black against his white skin. And his lips. They're blue. Is he just passed out?  I hope he isn't dead. I'm afraid to touch him because of the shock he gave me, but maybe if I touch him again…  Maybe it would be like a defibrillator.Someone jostles me from behind. "I'm a doctor."Another person. "I'm a nurse."I get out of the way. As the doctor and nurse bend over the boy, he begins to stir. His eyelids flutter, and the blue tinge leaves his lips, but his skin is still deathly pale. "What's your name, son?" the doctor asks. "Do you know your name?" "I'm not sure… " The boy frowns. "Gabriel. It's Gabriel."I just know him as the pale boy."Where are you from?" the doctor asks. I remember these as typical questions taught in CPR class."The secret island," the boy answers.  Of this he seems sure."Secret Island?" the nurse asks.I don't know why, but I interrupt. "He's an exchange student." "An exchange student from Secret Island?" This from the nurse again, who doesn't seem convinced of anything.I struggle to produce an answer, with no idea why I'm making things up. "It's an island off the coast of… of…""Iceland?" The boy's input is a question and a statement."That explains his pallor," someone in the crowd says."And his weird hair," a kid pipes in."And weird clothes." Another kid.His clothes are a little strange. Kind of casual Victorian. And his hair…not so strange, but long, and as pale as his face. Not something you see in the average teenager.  I think about the card he gave me last time he was in the café. I took the card home with me. I don't know why.  Now he's here again. And he's looking at me with the most wonderful eyes. Brown, but not a boring brown.  So brown they're almost black. He reaches up to me...and I reach back, unafraid.

WHERE I WRITE

Remembrance of things past

MADE OF STARS — CHAPTER TWO

Made of Stars( Want to read the first chapter? Go here: Chapter One )Want to purchase Made of Stars?  Find the links below Chapter One  .

Chapter TwoGabrielI will never get old. I will never die. These are the things I know. Before the clan created the secret island, we had to worry about being killed by our own kind and by the true humans, but now that we have our secret world, we are finally safe. But love.What about love?I will always be a sixteen-year-old boy. And yes, most people, when asked what part of their life they would like to relive, or what age they would like to be if only they could go back—they say sixteen. Most people say sixteen. At sixteen, there is so much promise. At sixteen, we are on the precipice of our lives. We don't know what those lives will hold, but excitement thrums in our veins. For the unknown. For the magic of the future. And like the true humans, we want to meet someone special. We on the secret island don't consider ourselves vampires. The V word isn't allowed here.  Vampires are simply immortals who went rogue. Psychopaths. Sociopaths. Immortals eat food, for God's sake. (Although I have to confess, food on the island is about as tasty as sawdust.) This is the tragedy of our existence. We fall in love, but we never age. We don't have children. We don't watch those children grow. We don’t grow old with someone. These are life experiences that we cannot have.And so the clan set out to change this. Sinclair, the genius behind our secret island, came up with a formula.  It involves matter and anti-matter and black holes and time shifts and gates and maybe a bit of magic. I don't know.  Sometimes I wonder if he just hypnotizes me and makes me think he's created the place where I can live a normal life. Where I can grow old and have children.But I don't care. Because in that place—whether it's real or whether it's something Sinclair has planted in my head—it seems real. It seems real times a hundred. And in that place of magic created by Sinclair… in that place, my love lives and breathes…and works in a coffee shop.And like a man with an illness, like a man with an addiction, I count the moments and breaths until I can go back there again. Until I can see her again.Of course there's always the worry, the terrible fear that it won't work this time. That the gate won't open. That I won't be able to cross into her world. Or worse, that I will go through the gate and I will walk down a street that seems too perfect, and she won't be there. She won't be where she was when I last visited.I'm the beta tester.In that place created by Sinclair, I live life in what seems like real time.  And right now, I plan to court the most beautiful girl. And it's not just her beauty. It's not just her dark hair and her blue eyes and her pale skin. Those things are important. I won't lie. But it's her heart. And her humor.  Her kindness.  She makes me laugh. And when I laugh in her world, the sound almost scares me.  When I laugh in that real place, I can feel the air escape my lungs, and I can feel the blood rush through my veins.Oh, and when I touch her…Oh, my God. When I touch her. Just a brush when she hands me my drink.How can I describe this? I think at first you must understand that life on the island is muted. Because of the layer of protection that surrounds us, muffles us. And not only externally, but internally too. We are smothered in an invisible blanket.  We are the hollow sound of a barking dog on a humid night. We are the hollow sound of a far-off train coming from another realm. When I touch the wooden banister in my house, my fingertips feel numb. And when I lift a glass of wine to my lips (Yes, I drink wine!), it tastes like diluted grape juice. Sinclair promises to eventually address these problems. "I must focus on keeping our island stable," he tells me. "These taste and tactile issues aren't important."But I know it bothers him. I know it frustrates him.But the gateway world…  It's almost as if everything I haven't felt during my island existence is suddenly poured into the gateway world. Life, emotions, smells…are all amplified. I wonder if this is what it feels like to be born. Maybe you are in this world, this safe, warm, quiet world, and then suddenly you aren't. Suddenly air is moving across your body, and you can hear your heart beating, and you can feel the blood circulating. Her hair.Her hair smells so good.Like oranges and vanilla. Right now I'm standing in the coffee shop where she works. And she's watching me as if she knows me. And she does know me.  I've been coming here for a while, but last week I gave her the first gateway card Sinclair made. That card brought her to me, to the secret island.  But now I hand her the new card. One that Sinclair tells me will be even better.One that is supposed to firmly embed me in her world.This has not been tested.I am the first."I don't know if it will work," Sinclair told me when he handed the card to me. Unlike the last one, which contained an image of our island, this one has the coffee shop on one side, and a map of the town on the other. "Don't step outside the city limits," Sinclair warned me. "I have no idea what will happen if you do that."But the truth is, he doesn't know what will happen if I don't step outside the city limits. I'm his beta tester. I've volunteered."You might not make it back."  That's another thing Sinclair told me. "Or you might come back at some unfortunate time. Or you might come back half-formed. Or you might come back with no memory of the girl in the café. Or you might come back with a fried brain."But when a man, a boy, a teenager, wants to experience love… Real love… He is willing to risk everything. Because isn't that what love is all about? So now I'm holding the card, my arm extended, waiting for her to take it."You're shaking," she says.And when those words reach my ears, I hear a melody.  I look around to see if anybody else heard it. People are hunched over laptops, people are staring at their iPhones. Her voice is like a song. I want to tell her that, but I don't. You're shaking. I know I should respond to her observation, but I can't think of any explanation, any kind of reply.  I'm shaking because I want her to take the card.  Everything hinges upon her taking the card. I swallow and kind of wave it a little.The espresso machine is roaring, and I smell more than her hair. I smell her skin and the cotton of her T-shirt. Beyond that, the scent of dark coffee, of hazelnuts, and maybe even a chocolate-chip cookie.I've eaten cookies here. They taste wonderful.She takes the card. Oh, God. She takes the card.The roar of the espresso machine becomes a roar in my head. The room shifts under my feet, and my insides feel as if they are being sucked through my skin. I imagine my heart outside my body, and I think I mumble something about wearing my heart on my sleeve.And then I hear this wong, wong, wong inside my head, and the room spins and turns black. I grab for the counter. But instead, my hand brushes the hand of the girl.  Sparks shoot between us, reminding me that we are all made of stars. The human and the not-so-human.  This girl named Lila.  And me. The human lets out a gasp of alarm. I've shocked her.  I'll bet Sinclair doesn't know about that. I will have to tell him that he might want to tweak some things.And then I hit the floor. And hit my head.Out cold.

MADE OF STARS — CHAPTER ONE

ABOUT THE BOOK: A genius vampire named Sinclair creates an
alternate world where vampires can experience a traditional human life of love,
marriage, and children. Sixteen-year-old Gabriel is Sinclair's beta tester and
volunteers to fall in love with a coffee shop girl. But when the pain of love
becomes overwhelming, Gabriel wonders about his decision. "It's too
real," he tells Sinclair. "You made it too real."
Watch for all seven chapters to be posted here. Can't wait to read the whole thing?
This novelette can be purchased in its entirely from: B&NAmazoniTunes ```````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````
Made of Stars Chapter 1 Lila The jon boat glides through black water, the paddle hitting aluminum with a hollow sound.  If anyone were to ask, I would say that I am heading for a secret place, to an island located in the middle of a shallow river with no name.   I would say that this is the kind of thing a curious girl will do—take a boat through the dark night of a Louisiana swamp.  As I paddle, I recall a beautiful boy with pale skin and circles under his eyes who came into the café where I work and slipped me his business card. On the front was a picture of a swampy island, a clearing, and a campfire.  On the back of the card was a map.  Now rumor has it that very few people are ever issued invites to the secret island, and those who are invited visit and never return.  So why am I going? This question I cannot answer, but here I am, dressed in unfamiliar clothes: skinny black jeans, a black T-shirt, black boots, and purple hair.  A Goth Nancy Drew. I see lights and hear music before I hit land. And then the boat is sliding up the grassy bank to come to a jerking halt.I step out and drag the small craft from the water.“You came.”It’s the pale boy, the one who gave me the card, and he’s appeared out of nowhere, as if he’s been watching for me, waiting for me.  I think about the small handgun I keep in my boot, and the mace in my pocket. I’m not sure it will be enough to protect me. Maybe I need a cross.  And holy water.  And garlic.  Haha.He reaches out and takes my hand.  “I’ll lead the way. It’s hard to see.”That’s the truth. I don’t know how he can tell where we’re going, because I can’t see what’s underfoot, but I let him lead me toward the music and the lights. This is a dream. I suddenly realize that this is a dream. Of course. It makes no sense that I’ve come here by myself. It makes no sense that I’ve come at all.  And a gun. Where did I get a gun? So it has to be a dream.  And since it’s a dream, I can let it unfold without question.Yes. Now I remember. At the café.  He handed me the business card.  I held it, and I regarded the image.  The island. And as I looked, the fire began to move. And when I turned the card to examine the map, I was suddenly in the boat, on the river with no name, heading toward the secret island. Yes, a dream.And now the pale boy is holding my hand, and I am following. Two girls have come to the island before me, and two girls have vanished. I think this is true. I think this really happened. Maybe this is a vision quest, a dream that will lead me to an answer.  Maybe later I will tell the police what happened to the girls.  The pale boy hands me a drink. “Is this blood?” I ask, lifting the glass and trying to examine the contents in the light falling from a house with tall windows.  He laughs. “It’s wine. Don’t tell me you believe all that vampire stuff.”“Well…”“If that’s what you think, why did you come?”I could hardy say I’d had no choice. I could hardly tell him this was a dream, because I would then be pointing out that he wasn’t real. “The business card,” I begin as way of explanation.“Did you like that? It wasn’t easy for the clan to create a doorway card. It’s still in the beta stage, so I was surprised when I saw you coming across the river. I didn’t know if it would work.  But you’re here. I’m glad.”I sip the wine and watch him over the edge of my glass.  “Did I have any choice?” I wonder aloud.“It’s like hypnosis,” he says. “You can’t be made to do anything you don’t want to do. Which is why I’m extra surprised to see you. It means you wanted to come. You wanted to see me.” He smiles, and it doesn’t bother me that the mouth behind his teeth looks black. Maybe it’s just the light.  And it doesn’t bother me that his skin is cold and as smooth as marble. And it doesn’t bother me that he smells of moss and mildew and damp earth. I rather like it. And I like the softness of his voice, and I like the shimmer of his blond hair, the long length of his legs, the fragile strength of his arms. I drink the wine. Even though I know it’s more than wine, I drink it.  Because I know it will open another door, and that door will take me to a deeper understanding of the pale boy.  I fall through a dark hole, and in that hole our lives intertwine. We marry, we have sex, we have children born under a black moon. The pale boy knows me and I know him, and twenty years unfold in one glass, a road that unrolls in front of me and rolls up behind me as I walk, every experience ephemeral and fleeting.An intrusive sound seeps in.  A ring that indicates an order is up.  And suddenly I’m standing in the coffee shop behind the cash register, and the pale boy is on the other side of the counter, and I’m holding the business card as if he’s just given it to me seconds ago. I look at the card. Just a photo of a campfire. I turn it over. Just a crude map.“For the jar,” he says.I look at him blankly.  He nods toward the fishbowl of business cards.“Oh.”  I drop it inside.  “How often do you have a drawing?” he asks.  And I recall the way his skin felt under my fingertips, and the way his hair smelled as it fell against my face. “Every Monday,” I say.He smiles, and his smile is intimate.   As if he knows me. “Good. I’ll have a new card next week.”

MADE OF STARS, CHAPTER ONE

ABOUT THE BOOK: A genius vampire named Sinclair creates an
alternate world where vampires can experience a traditional human life of love,
marriage, and children. Sixteen-year-old Gabriel is Sinclair's beta tester and
volunteers to fall in love with a coffee shop girl. But when the pain of love
becomes overwhelming, Gabriel wonders about his decision. "It's too
real," he tells Sinclair. "You made it too real."
Watch for all seven chapters to be posted here. Can't wait to read the whole thing?
This novelette can be purchased in its entirely from: B&NAmazoniTunes ```````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````
Made of Stars Chapter 1 Lila The jon boat glides through black water, the paddle hitting aluminum with a hollow sound.  If anyone were to ask, I would say that I am heading for a secret place, to an island located in the middle of a shallow river with no name.   I would say that this is the kind of thing a curious girl will do—take a boat through the dark night of a Louisiana swamp.  As I paddle, I recall a beautiful boy with pale skin and circles under his eyes who came into the café where I work and slipped me his business card. On the front was a picture of a swampy island, a clearing, and a campfire.  On the back of the card was a map.  Now rumor has it that very few people are ever issued invites to the secret island, and those who are invited visit and never return.  So why am I going? This question I cannot answer, but here I am, dressed in unfamiliar clothes: skinny black jeans, a black T-shirt, black boots, and purple hair.  A Goth Nancy Drew. I see lights and hear music before I hit land. And then the boat is sliding up the grassy bank to come to a jerking halt.I step out and drag the small craft from the water.“You came.”It’s the pale boy, the one who gave me the card, and he’s appeared out of nowhere, as if he’s been watching for me, waiting for me.  I think about the small handgun I keep in my boot, and the mace in my pocket. I’m not sure it will be enough to protect me. Maybe I need a cross.  And holy water.  And garlic.  Haha.He reaches out and takes my hand.  “I’ll lead the way. It’s hard to see.”That’s the truth. I don’t know how he can tell where we’re going, because I can’t see what’s underfoot, but I let him lead me toward the music and the lights. This is a dream. I suddenly realize that this is a dream. Of course. It makes no sense that I’ve come here by myself. It makes no sense that I’ve come at all.  And a gun. Where did I get a gun? So it has to be a dream.  And since it’s a dream, I can let it unfold without question.Yes. Now I remember. At the café.  He handed me the business card.  I held it, and I regarded the image.  The island. And as I looked, the fire began to move. And when I turned the card to examine the map, I was suddenly in the boat, on the river with no name, heading toward the secret island. Yes, a dream.And now the pale boy is holding my hand, and I am following. Two girls have come to the island before me, and two girls have vanished. I think this is true. I think this really happened. Maybe this is a vision quest, a dream that will lead me to an answer.  Maybe later I will tell the police what happened to the girls.  The pale boy hands me a drink. “Is this blood?” I ask, lifting the glass and trying to examine the contents in the light falling from a house with tall windows.  He laughs. “It’s wine. Don’t tell me you believe all that vampire stuff.”“Well…”“If that’s what you think, why did you come?”I could hardy say I’d had no choice. I could hardly tell him this was a dream, because I would then be pointing out that he wasn’t real. “The business card,” I begin as way of explanation.“Did you like that? It wasn’t easy for the clan to create a doorway card. It’s still in the beta stage, so I was surprised when I saw you coming across the river. I didn’t know if it would work.  But you’re here. I’m glad.”I sip the wine and watch him over the edge of my glass.  “Did I have any choice?” I wonder aloud.“It’s like hypnosis,” he says. “You can’t be made to do anything you don’t want to do. Which is why I’m extra surprised to see you. It means you wanted to come. You wanted to see me.” He smiles, and it doesn’t bother me that the mouth behind his teeth looks black. Maybe it’s just the light.  And it doesn’t bother me that his skin is cold and as smooth as marble. And it doesn’t bother me that he smells of moss and mildew and damp earth. I rather like it. And I like the softness of his voice, and I like the shimmer of his blond hair, the long length of his legs, the fragile strength of his arms. I drink the wine. Even though I know it’s more than wine, I drink it.  Because I know it will open another door, and that door will take me to a deeper understanding of the pale boy.  I fall through a dark hole, and in that hole our lives intertwine. We marry, we have sex, we have children born under a black moon. The pale boy knows me and I know him, and twenty years unfold in one glass, a road that unrolls in front of me and rolls up behind me as I walk, every experience ephemeral and fleeting.An intrusive sound seeps in.  A ring that indicates an order is up.  And suddenly I’m standing in the coffee shop behind the cash register, and the pale boy is on the other side of the counter, and I’m holding the business card as if he’s just given it to me seconds ago. I look at the card. Just a photo of a campfire. I turn it over. Just a crude map.“For the jar,” he says.I look at him blankly.  He nods toward the fishbowl of business cards.“Oh.”  I drop it inside.  “How often do you have a drawing?” he asks.  And I recall the way his skin felt under my fingertips, and the way his hair smelled as it fell against my face. “Every Monday,” I say.He smiles, and his smile is intimate.   As if he knows me. “Good. I’ll have a new card next week.”

ARE YOU ON VINE?

I love Vine, but not many people seem to use it. Why not? Yes, you can post videos on Instagram, but am I the only one who finds Instagram videos a bit jarring? I think it's because I might be in a setting where I'm just planning to quietly view photos and suddenly there's audio and video. And I like the loop of vine because it creates an artistic challenge, one I haven't gotten the hang of. If you have the notion, follow me on Vine. and another:

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These books are all given away by the authors themselves and you could win one of them! All you have to do is enter the Rafflecopter giveaway below and press the options you'd like to signup for! Lots of opportunities to win an awesome prize! Please note: Some books aren't suitable for readers under seventeen. a Rafflecopter giveaway Giveaway ends October 22nd at 11:59 PM EST. Open internationally. Warning: content possibly not suitable for minors under the age of 17. Prizes will be sent electronically via mail. Winner will be selected on 10/23/2013 by Random.org and be notified by email. The product offered for the giveaway is free of charge, no purchase necessary. My opinions are my own and were not influenced by any form of compensation. Facebook, Twitter and Google+ are in no way associated with this giveaway. By providing your information in this form, you are providing your information to me and me alone. I do not share or sell information and will use any information only for the purpose of contacting the winner.

COME AS YOU ARE

I went back and forth about putting Nirvana stuff in the blurb for Come As You Are. I decided against it after reading the article going around about the twenty-something girl who'd recently written a letter to Nirvana asking if they could play at…something. Homecoming, maybe? And so I thought better not mention Nirvana. But reviewers ARE mentioning the band, and that's good! Yes, there's definitely a strong Nirvana…center.
The weird thing is that I had no idea In Utero was being reissued this year until the book was almost done. That was just serendipity. Molly, the heroine, even writes a story for one of her University of Minnesota classes about the recording of In Utero. (Trivia: In Utero was recorded at Pachyderm Recording Studio in Cannon Falls, Minnesota. My son worked there for a few years before starting his own studio in Minneapolis called Old Blackberry Way.)
There are other musical nods in the book, some obscure and some not so obscure. There's one line in particular that I've wondered if people will get, and it's in reference to Big Star. If you pick up on it let me know.
When my kids were little I used to love to create scavenger hunts, and the clues became more elaborate the older the kids got. I think burying stuff in a story, or even hiding it in plain sight, has a bit of that fun to me. Like, will anybody get this? And if they do, will they think it's fun?
The reissue of In Utero is September 24. Release date for Come As You Are is October 1, but we're hoping to get it out earlier. (Waiting on paperback.) Really hoping we can hit September 24. And not just because of the reissue. If you read the book you'll understand why that date has added significance.
ROLLING STONE ARTICLE ABOUT REISSUE

HOW I CAME TO WRITE A NEW ADULT ROMANCE

Come As You Are 
This book was an accident. Kind of.  Because it's also one of those accidents that makes perfect sense in retrospect. Back in the late spring I started a Facebook writers' group with the idea that members would post their goals for the month and we'd see if we could meet those goals. But it wasn't just a place for goals, it became a place to discuss trends and writing in general.
One of the members, friend and fellow writer L.K. Rigel, was talking about the New Adult book she was working on.  I asked her a lot of questions, and I read some samples of NA. What struck me is that these books were kind of similar to what I was doing when I wrote romance. And the good news for me? Back then one of the complaints I got was that my books were too dark and too full of angst.  Wounded characters. That kind of thing, so in some ways NA seemed right in my wheelhouse. The other thing is that about seven or eight years ago I asked my then editor what she thought about my writing a book, not about high school kids (she'd mentioned a YA to me), but about COLLEGE KIDS. Because I could definitely see myself doing that.  She said there was no market for books featuring people in their twenties, and those people didn't have time to read anyway.
I never went to college and I have a particular fascination with that period of a person's life. I suppose a romanticized fascination.  And I love that age.  Plus, I'd tested the romance waters with The Girl with the Cat Tattoo. And in thinking about that book… It almost felt a bit NA even though it didn't really contain all the elements and the main characters were a little bit too old. But Melody could have easily been an NA character. And the followup book, The Geek with the Cat Tattoo, features people in their twenties. So I was kind of dancing on the fringes of NA but just didn't know it.
So… back to the writing camp. I decided to see what I could get written on an NA in our July writing camp. Thought I'd maybe just work on it for a few days. That turned into a week. Then another week. Then the whole month because I found I loved writing the story. By the end of July I had the first draft finished.  By the middle of August I had the edit complete. Crazy.
Come As You Are release date: October 1
Come As You Are will be available as an ebook through Amazon, iTunes, B&N, and Kobo. Print will be available through Amazon.  I think with expanded distribution the print edition will be available elsewhere after a few weeks.


If you're curious about the book, check out this review on Goodreads, complete with GIFs and images.  And maybe add the book to your library while you're there. :)

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